


Choosing To

by dulcedinem



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, HP femslash, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Love, Post-Hogwarts, harry potter femslash, linny - Freeform, linny wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:07:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22379209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dulcedinem/pseuds/dulcedinem
Summary: Scenes from two lives knit together.-“Luna,” she breathed, her own voice quieter than she expected. Seeing her was a blow to her chest and yet she couldn’t pull her eyes away. Luna held onto her gaze too, smiling gently, a vision of tangled dirty-blonde hair and summer freckles that rivalled her own.“Ginny.” Luna let her reply hang between them for a moment before moving forward, capturing Ginny in a tight hug. Ginny gripped her in return, breathing in her familiar scent, revelling in the warmth of her skin.
Relationships: Angelina Johnson/George Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 4
Kudos: 54





	Choosing To

**Author's Note:**

> a collection of scenes I've had rattling around my head for a while that needed to come out

**1.**

“She’s back, you know.” Harry pushed the cloudy cup of tea towards Ginny, who on instinct reached out. 

“Hmm?” Ginny, eyes still on the paper in front of her, didn’t look up.

“Luna. She’s back. From Estonia. Thought you might be interested.” Harry leaned back in the red corduroy padded armchair, lumpy from years of use. Soft chatter from other customers surrounded them, broken up by the tinkling of the glass door being opened and shut, gusts of wind escaping past quick manoeuvres to shut it against the impending weather.

“Why would I be interested?” Ginny flipped to the next page of the _Daily Prophet_ , her tone flat and indifferent. “I’m assuming she’ll be leaving again shortly, off to chase some elusive creature.”

“Actually, she’s home for a while. She’s staying with Neville. He’s invited a few of us over for dinner next week. You’re coming.” Harry stirred the contents of his mug and waited for Ginny’s response. She finally looked up at him, brown eyes squinted in annoyance meeting green. 

“I think I’m busy,” Ginny sighed and pushed a sheet of long red hair from her shoulder. Harry grinned in response and she stopped herself from rolling her eyes at him.

“I checked your schedule, the Harpies don’t train on Friday nights. Guess you’re coming after all.” In triumph, Harry raised his coffee and gave a little mock cheers towards her. Ginny laid down the paper abruptly, eyes narrowed.

“What’re you playing at, Harry?” She hadn’t seen Luna in years. The last time they parted, Luna had called off their budding relationship so she could pursue her passion for Magizoology across various continents. 

Harry, pretending at offence, held his hand over his chest. “Not playing at anything, Gin. I promise. I swear it on my collection of Wildfire Whiz-bangs.” This time, Ginny had to laugh.

“Harry, I know for a fact you don’t own any Whiz-bangs, so cut it. I’ll go, but only because Hermione will be on my case if I don’t.” 

“Good.” Harry sipped his drink, smug as ever. Ginny reached over and tousled his hair before he could swat her hand away, his protests drowned out by the loud whir of the coffee grinder behind them.

**2.**

A week later, Ginny was at Neville’s door.

“Ginny! Come in, come in. Everyone else just arrived.” Neville ushered Ginny into his home on the edge of Hogsmeade. He was freshly shaven, hands scrubbed clean of the usual layer of dirt he accumulated after a day of teaching Herbology. Ginny gave him a quick squeeze before following him in, his patterned wool sweater itchy against her cheek. 

Hermione waved to her from the kitchen table. In front of her, a small knife dutifully chopped a large pile of mushrooms as she reached around it and grabbed a slice for herself. Ron and George flanked her on either side, their flashes of bright red hair visible from across the room. They both nodded their hellos at their sister and continued their bickering over the latest Quidditch game Ginny had snagged them tickets to. Harry tried to interject behind them but was summarily ignored. Angelina, on George’s left, rolled her eyes and grinned at Ginny’s entrance.

“Hey, Gin. Can you settle this for them, please? Did Puddlemere’s chaser execute an illegal turn in the last game?” Angelina spoke over their heads, exasperated.

“No, it was legal. They won fair and square.” Ginny smirked at Ron’s groan and George’s shout of victory. 

“Merlin, thank you, now can we move on?” Angelina shot the pair of them pointed looks. 

“Come on love, you know I have to relish these moments of being right.” George leaned towards her and pressed a kiss to her temple, brushing back her thick braid. 

A soft laugh reached Ginny from the kitchen and she turned. There she was. 

“Luna,” she breathed, her own voice quieter than she expected. Seeing her was a blow to her chest and yet she couldn’t pull her eyes away. Luna held onto her gaze too, smiling gently, a vision of tangled dirty-blonde hair and summer freckles that rivalled her own. 

“Ginny.” Luna let her reply hang between them for a moment before moving forward, capturing Ginny in a tight hug. Ginny gripped her in return, breathing in her familiar scent, revelling in the warmth of her skin. 

Ginny had been quiet throughout dinner, answering the questions about Quidditch that Ron peppered her with and doing her best to not look across the table. She could feel Luna’s gaze on her. She heard her soft replies when Neville asked her about her latest project, each lilt of her voice a twist in Ginny’s stomach. She had missed her. Miserably. She even caught Hermione staring at her knowingly now and then. Ginny silently swore at Harry for making her come tonight. As soon as dinner was over, she excused herself for some air and escaped into Neville’s garden.

She laid out on the swinging bench Neville had lovingly constructed by hand in the heart of the garden. Dense and reaching leaves climbed above the twisted metal and hung above her head. She sipped her wine and enjoyed the silence, drinking in fresh air, feeling like she could finally breathe.

Luna had looked perfect. Just like she did in every memory of her. More freckles, maybe. A little older. But still as beautiful as ever, as kind as ever. She had chatted with Neville about all his favourite new plants, earnestly listening to him describe each one in detail, asking after Hermione’s plans at the Ministry, Harry’s work as an Auror, how George’s business was going. She hadn’t asked Ginny about her work. The two had tactfully ignored each other in the various conversations they drifted in and out of. Before, Ginny had thought she had moved on fully, especially in the past year. She was dating again, here and there. She had almost stopped dreaming of Luna altogether. Yet here she was. And suddenly the wound was raw again, open. She had _missed_ her. 

“Ginny? Can I join you?” Luna padded across the soft grass towards her and Ginny sucked in a breath. She hadn’t heard the back door quietly open. 

She moved over on the bench, watching as Luna arranged her large knit jumper around her carefully. It was mixed cottons of light orange and purples, a ghastly thing in Ginny’s opinion, but she couldn’t help but love it. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to talk to you in there.” Luna was the first to fill the silence. She sounded tentative.

“It’s fine, Luna. It’s been a while.” Ginny smiled at her half-heartedly and watched as Luna twisted her hands together in her lap.

“I wanted to say though, before you left, that it was good to see you. I—I missed you,” Luna whispered, her voice trailing out into the darkness. Ginny shifted to see her better. 

“I…missed you too, Lunes.” Ginny’s voice felt thick in her throat, heavy with emotion. 

“Can I see you again? Just us?” Luna reached over and rested her palm on Ginny’s knee. Ginny nodded, slipping her hand underneath, Luna’s hand cool against hers. 

**3.**

A month later, Ginny and Luna stood across from each other in Ginny’s living room. 

“This Thursday, Luna?” Ginny stood from the table, still in her uniform. Grass stains marred the fabric along her arms and the pads on her knees. 

“I know, Ginny, I know. But this is a once in a lifetime opportunity! Grimblehawk only sent me the owl this afternoon. Ashwinders, Gin! I’ve always wanted to work with them.” Luna looked torn between regret and pure excitement, her eyes wide and unsettled. 

“Luna, the big game is this Thursday. The _semifinals!_ Against Spain, remember?” Ginny began to tear off her practice padding, shrugging off her robe—damp from the rain—and kicking off her boots. 

“Ginny,” Luna’s voice was soft, pleading, “this is important to me too. I—I need to go.” Luna, hair piled high on her head, pushed her wand through her bun and moved towards Ginny. Ginny moved quicker, keeping the distance between them. 

“How could you leave, Luna? Again? This is—this is _everything_ to me. I need you there.” Ginny wiped angry tears from her eyes and stared at Luna disbelievingly. 

“Ginny, don’t.” Luna’s grip on the tea towel in her hands tightened. “Don’t do this, Gin. It doesn’t always have to be black or white. This isn’t some all or nothing scenario, so stop making it into one. I’m not _leaving_ , I’m just—it’s just—this is my dream too.” 

“Luna,” Ginny sat on the edge of the couch, her elbows on her knees, hands raking through her hair, “I thought I was ready, I thought I could do this. But I can’t. If you need to go, you should go.”

Luna crossed the room and folded herself in front of Ginny, hands against her knee. “I have to go, Gin. But that doesn’t mean I’m not coming back. I promise, okay? I promise. It’s only a few months. We can have both. Ginny, look at me.” Luna tilted Ginny’s chin up, her hand pushing back wet hair, her hand cradling her cheek. Ginny stared back with hard eyes. They swam with hurt, with confusion. 

“I don’t know if we can. And I know I can’t ask you to stay, I know that’s selfish. But I want you, Luna. I desperately—”

Luna cut off her words with a kiss. She covered Ginny’s mouth with hers, pouring her grief, her desire, her love into the soft pulling of Ginny’s bottom lip, the feel of her tongue against hers. She tasted salt. She moved quicker, needing Ginny’s mouth against hers. 

“We can, Gin,” Luna breathed between kisses, “we can. And I choose to.” 

“Okay,” Ginny sighed into her mouth, “okay, Lunes. Alright. I’m sorry.” Ginny’s hand held the back of Luna’s neck gently, fingers intertwined between thick curls. Her other framed her face lovingly.

“I’m sorry, Luna. We’ll make it work,” Ginny slid off the couch until she was on the floor in front of Luna, their lips searching each other out, “you deserve this, you deserve everything.” Ginny reached over and rubbed away the remnants of tears from Luna’s cheek. She cradled her face between her hands and pressed soft kisses to her lips, silently asking for her forgiveness. 

**4.**

A year later, Luna waited for Ginny in the kitchen. 

“What’s all this about?” Luna laughed as Ginny pulled her along, her hands dutifully held over her eyes. 

“Just wait, one more second.” Ginny, hands on Luna’s hips, carefully led her through their backdoor and into the yard. 

“Okay,” Ginny grinned, her excitement tangible, “open them!” 

Luna’s hands fell to her side as she took in the sight in front of her. There, in the middle of their once-barren backyard, was a beautiful iron-wrought swing bench. Fresh vines crawled up its side and layered it with lush leaves of green. And around it, newly planted, were full bushes of bright hydrangeas in pinks, blues, purples, and blooming peonies and overflowing rambling roses in whites and red. Luna gasped and spun to Ginny.

“How did you—is this—Neville’s bench? Is this the bench?” Luna laughed through her exclamations as Ginny nodded excitedly, a full basket in her arms. “And is that—oh!” Luna almost doubled over at the sight of a small gnome poking out from under the bench.

“Yeah,” Ginny shrugged, “the gnomes stayed. I know you have a soft spot for them. As for the bench, Neville helped me make this one, it’s our very own. And he helped me a little with the planting, too.” Ginny held up her hands to show the rims of dirt she had tried to remove unsuccessfully from her nails. Luna pulled Ginny in by the small of her back, the basket in her arms dropping softly into the grass. 

“It’s perfect, Gin.” 

“Happy anniversary, Lunes.”

**6.**

Two years later, Ginny nervously paced behind closed double doors. She could hear laughter and voices carrying over from outside. George’s loud bark of a laugh, her dad’s low baritone reply, Harry’s quick retort. All of them, all her loved ones, gathered outside. Ginny stilled herself and straightened out the lines of her white pantsuit. Silk, her mum had insisted. Molly had dabbed her eyes when Ginny tried it on for her as Molly fussed about, tucking Ginny’s hair up into intricate braids.

But now, she waited alone. 

“Hi, love.”

Ginny turned. There she was. A vision. 

“Hi, Lunes.” Ginny grinned despite the tears that already threatened to fall. She reached for Luna’s hand and stood back, taking it in. Luna’s dress was covered with every colour Ginny thought existed, a rainbow of soft pastels that swirled around her. Atop her head, a diadem of silver unicorn horns, placed carefully on her pile of curls. 

“You look beautiful, love,” Ginny breathed. And she did. It was perfect, it was Luna.

“Are you ready?” Luna nodded in response, her lips curving into a gentle smile. 

The two linked arms, grinning at each other. The wide doors swung open for them and they stepped out into the sun. The aisle was lined with petals from their garden, haphazardly tossed there moments before by a chattering and toddling Rose Granger-Weasley. Hermione stood at the end of the aisle waiting for them. Her silver robes shone brilliantly and she tried not to break out into a grin at the sight of them, ready to officiate. When they reached her, she opened the ceremony with a blessing. She clasped their palms together, wrapping a white ribbon around their hands until it glowed with the infusion of their combined magic. 

“You’re up, Luna,” Hermione whispered. The two turned to face each other. 

“Ginny,” Luna drew in a shaky breath, “my whole life, I’ve always felt like I’ve been walking in a dream. But when I met you, I woke up. And life was better than my dreams. _You_ were better than any dream. I realized, two years ago, when I saw you again, I had been living half myself. And falling in love with you was finding that other half, Gin. And I’ve fallen for you, again, and again. I feel like through finding you, I’ve found what’s true. And I know, I _know_ , I’ll always love you.” 

Ginny ran her fingers along the bottom of her lids. She laughed – happy tears.

“Luna, sweet Luna.” She smiled down at their clasped hands, at Luna’s delicate opal ring that reflected the glow of light around them. “When I first saw you, I thought you were the silliest thing I’d ever seen. And I loved you, instantly. For your laugh, for your gentleness, for your curiousity, for your innate goodness. And I know I’ve always been headstrong, and temperamental,” Molly’s snort from the front row sent soft laughter rippling along the gathered group, “but you,” Ginny laughed at the response, “you’ve seen those parts of me, and you’ve loved me despite them. And you’ve loved me for them. Luna, I’ve fallen apart a hundred times, and you’ve healed me, and known me, and loved me. I can’t wait to build our lives together, to support each other in our dreams. You’ve always been it, Lunes.” Ginny rubbed her thumb against the top of Luna’s hand, willing her tears to stop for a moment. She looked up into Luna’s eyes, a mirror of her own. “You’ve always been everything.”


End file.
